Fish Paste
by stones
Summary: It really is a small world after all. Kisame/Karin. Seriously. Mature Humor.


**Fish Paste**

by **stones**

**Pairing: **Kisame/Karin. No, I'm not joking. K squared all the way, baby!

Beta: Nuclear Burp

* * *

Why was it that the cute ones were always assholes?

And why was it that the cute one's friends, for lack of a better word, were even bigger assholes? Damn Suigetsu. What was a girl to do when she was in over her head about the piscine bastard and he wouldn't even look at her? Cry about it to her friends of course…If only she had any. Juugo didn't count, his advice usually ended up along the lines of 'Talk to the animal spirits, and if that fails, rip his head off'.

Such were the disadvantages of being stuck with a group of psychos-- not that she had anything better to do in the first place.

If only she could find an asshole that wasn't so cute. If he wasn't cute, he wouldn't be picky, right? But then again, she probably wouldn't want him. Soooo confusing. Why did she have to like assholes?

She sighed heavily, blowing her dark, red hair from her face to take a sip from the cup in front of her. Taking a glance around, she looked at the small establishment, though shack would have been the better word to use. Deciding to get a breath of fresh air and get away from the old man that just stared at her from the back of the serving counter, she took her cup into her hands, grabbed the bottle with the other and was on her way. She sat her butt down on a nice little bench outside that creaked when she relaxed against the heavy wood, but it bothered her none. Setting the cup and bottle beside her, she snuggled into her seat and leaned her head on the backrest, angling her neck to fit the curve. What a day.

"Are you passing out at…eleven o'clock in the morning?"

She squinted an eye open to see who dared disturb her, and kind of hoped it would be someone good-looking. It was just his silhouette that she could see since his back was facing the bright sun. Bringing a hand up to shield the glare from her eyes, she sniffed and clicked her tongue.

"What's it to you?"

She could see his large soldiers shrug. "Your prerogative."

She didn't respond to that, but just kept staring. After a few moments that would have been awkward if it were any other two people, she sniffed again and looked away, pouring herself another cup. "You want to get out of the sun or something?" she asked, setting the bottle down and bringing the cup to her lips. "You look like a giant or something."

"Fee fi frickin' fo fum," he joked, though she thought it was the lamest thing she ever heard. Honestly, she suspected him to leave her alone but he stepped closer, going to take a seat next to her.

"Watch it," she hissed, grabbing her bottle before he could sit on it. The bench dipped considerably once he sat and creaked even louder than before. The thought that the bench could very much just cave in and have them both on their butts in record time flashed through her mind. She lifted her cup and tilted it, saying, "Cheers."

"What brings a girl all alone here?" he asked. She turned her head to look at him, and realized she had to crank her head up to take a look at his face. Okay, he was blue. She had seen weirder things before. Her days with Orochimaru hadn't been filled with bunnies and a bird chorus.

"I got thirsty," she replied simply. "And what is a giant, blue man doing here?"

"I got bored and took a walk," he said, shrugging, hitting her shoulder in the process. Her sake spilled on her lap and left a big wet stain on her shorts. Giving the mess an emotionless look, she looked back at him.

"So is this like some kind of supernatural force thing?" she asked, twirling her cup in her hand.

"What?"

She shrugged as she put her cup to her lips and tipped her head all the way back to get the last drips of her drink. Waste not, dehydrate not. "Kinda like-" she said, bringing her head straight again as she licked her lips of stray dribbles of sake, "-the same place, the same time kind of thing. You know, me and you."

"That sounds like-" he stopped, puffed his lower lip in thought and smacked his lips, "-complete bullshit."

"Whatever," she grumbled. "So I'm a hopeless romantic. Kill me."

It was quiet except for the clinks made by the bottle and cup as she poured herself some more. Scratch that; it was quiet until he decided to talk again. "You going to share some or what?"

She pushed her head back to give him a look, because really, what kind of idiot question was that? "Listen, you," she started, nodding his large figure up and down, "would need a lot more than this." She shook her bottle. "Almost empty."

"Well, you could have at least asked," he said.

"For what, exactly?"

"It's the polite thing to do," he said.

"If you want a gentleman, or woman or whatever, you're looking for her in the wrong place," she snapped, lifting a brow at him.

He nodded and smiled at her, only the corners of his mouth curling. "So you have a name or something?"

"Yeah, I have a name," she said, rolling her eyes. "Doesn't mean I'm going to give it to you. If that's your way of picking up girls, you need to work on it."

"Funny," he replied quickly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the small diner. "I wasn't trying to pick up a drunken _girl_, and even if I was, what was I doing wrong?"

"You were being too nice."

"You're something else," he mumbled, turning away from her to look at the view of the hills in front of them. "So you like jackasses or something?"

She slumped her shoulders. "Yeah."

"Good then," he said. "We should get along great."

"What bullcrap are you spouting?" she asked, looking at the hills too. "I just said you were too nice."

"That's my first impression personality," he clarified.

She took a sip. "Great. A bipolar maniac is trying to pick me up."

And so came another silent pause. She swung her legs back and forth while he just kept staring at the hills. They were pretty alright, but damn, the sun was bright. It wasn't too hard to deal with though. At least she had someone with her. With that thought, she snuck a peak at him. He might have not noticed or really didn't feel bothered by it because he didn't look. She shrugged. She would have liked him to be Sasuke. Then again, she'd have liked every rock, tree and anything vaguely phallic to be Sasuke.

"It's Karin," she said after a while.

"Kisame," he replied with a nod of his head.

"That sounds oddly familiar."

He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "I get that a lot."

"So are your double personalities all I have to watch out for?" she asked, pouring the last cup. She held it out to him and he had to turn and look to make sure he was really seeing what he was seeing. He just held a hand up, declining. So she cheerily downed her last cup. Her last one. Wow, that made her sad.

"I'm not a good dancer," he said with a shrug.

"…And that makes the two of us," she mumbled with a frown as she set down her cup. Her now _empty_ cup next to her _empty _bottle. What a buzz kill.

"So what's wrong with you?" he asked.

She closed her eyes shut as her lower lip puffed. He knew what this meant. Kisame could only look at her like a ticking bomb.

"The love of my life won't even give me the time of day!" she snapped.

"Wow," he said, rubbing his hands together awkwardly. "That sucks."

She nodded and let out a breath of frustrated air. She sunk in her seat, her back rubbing against the wooden wall painfully. "Tell me about it."

"What's this guys name?" he asked. "Or girl. You know, that's fine too. It's actually kind of hot."

"Okay, ew," she said, pointing a finger up. "_His_ name is Sasuke."

"Wow, now _that _sounds oddly familiar," he drawled out, looking to the sky to think. She gazed at him as he thought, because his face looked pretty funny. Once she got bored, she looked away and shrugged.

"That's only 'cause he's like the _sexiest_ man of all time," she snorted.

He hadn't heard her for he was still thinking about that damn name. Sasuke. Where had he heard that from? Images flashed through his head-- images of him and his partner sitting at a table, sharing dinner; images of Itachi and him fishing on those days where they had to rough it outside for the night; images of Itachi meditating and Kisame just falling asleep. And each time, the image of Itachi opened his eyes, looked straight at Kisame and said, "Sasuke" A snort. "My foolish little…"

Dammit, what was it!? His foolish little what!?

"'Hey," Karin said, poking him on the shoulder. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to explode."

"Yeah fine," he mumbled, though it would annoy him for the rest of the week, he was sure. "So you have family over here or something?"

She made a 'eh' kind of noise as she brought her arms over her head to stretch. "Nah. Just swung by with a little group I travel with. I guess you could call them a team."

"No shit," he said with a grunt. "Same deal."

"Hey, we have a lot in common," she observed, looking over at him again. "It's usually people that are like me that I don't get along with."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of threat or something?"

She shrugged and breathed heavily. "Take it as you want it."

"What are you traveling for?" he asked. "I guess this _love of your life_ guy is on this team."

"That's personal information that I'm not allowed to pass onto strangers at the moment," she started quite smartly, "and yes. Yes he is."

"Why don't you, I don't know, just jump on him or something at night," he suggested with a shrug.

"Ive already tried tha- I mean, I'm not that desperate!" she snapped back without pause, posture rising angrily as she looked at him. But soon her eyes narrowed as she thought about it, and she slumped down in her seat. _"_What am I talking about? I'm so desperate. But what if he rejects me? How _horrible_ would that be?"

"Did you ever think that he might be gay?"

This time she jumped out of her seat, her head feeling light. She gripped the wall beside her to balance herself as she glared at the man next to her. "Sasuke? Gay? Are you mad?"

"Well," he started, barely caring about her outburst, "you're a pretty good looking girl. Not really my type, hence the word _girl_. He's either blind or gay not to care. _Plus_ if you threw yourself at me, or any guy for that matter, he would take it whether he likes you or not. It's in our genes or something. So if he denies easy sex, there's something wrong with him."

"He's just different," she huffed.

"He's just _gay_," he whispered beside her, just to piss her off.

"You just don't understand!" she yelled, pointing at him. "He's been through a lot!"

"Yeah," he snorted. "Him and the rest of the world."

"He might hide it, but he's a sensitive person. Me and him would just be a distraction."

"Or he's just gay."

"He's a serious guy! He wouldn't do something as stupid as have sex with me because, _hello, _how awkward would that be? There wouldn't just be the morning _after_. We travel together! We're on a team! There would be a _million_ morning afters! He just can't afford that."

It was silent and Karin thought that she had finally proven her point to him. Satisfied, she took her seat and stretched herself out, the bench creaking once again. Of course she had chosen to ignore the plain facts she had just listed-- the facts that told her that her and Sasuke would clearly never happen. What could she say? She was a wishful thinker. Glancing over at Kisame, she saw him nod and shrug.

"Yeah," he said, agreeing with her. She smiled smugly. "Or he could be a fairy."

"Shut up, fat ass!" she groaned. "You don't know anything about men."

"That doesn't even make sense," he hissed back, "considering I _am_ one."

She stood from her seat, stomping on the ground. "You? A man? Are you kidding me? You look like some kind of shark!"

"Heavens," he whined, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Give me peace. And a scaling knife for my damned thighs while you're at it."

"Don't ignore me!" she hissed.

"Shut up," he growled, lifting himself from his seat.

She looked up at him. When did he get so tall? Poking him on the chest with a finger, she prepared the two words that pissed off people more than anything else. She knew it was fool-proof and a sure fire thing. She had used it on Suigetsu many times. "_Make me_."

"You sure like to throw around pathetic little threats, girly."

"You sure like to back down when I pass them out."

"Hey," he shot defensively. "I'm just trying to be a pleasant guy."

"I already told you I don't like nice guys."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. "You want me to try and get in your pants?"

"First of all, this is a skirt, I think," she said, motioning to her bottom. "Second of all, it never hurts to be chased after!"

"You want me to chase after you?" he asked, giving her an incredulous look. "You look like a classroom porno gone wrong. And believe me girly, I don't even _need _to chase you."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Fine," she said with a bob of her head as she crossed her arms. "Say goodbye to the best thing that could have happened to you."

"Probably the worst thing."

"I hate men like you!" she hissed at him, throwing up her hands.

"Like what?"

"I hate assholes!" she yelled, then paused. He quirked a brow challengingly and she couldn't hide that defeated smile that crawled onto her face. She raised her hand to point at him. "You," she laughed. "Oh, you."

"Me," he said, chuckling himself.

"You," she said for the last time, poking him in the chest again. "You're good."

He shrugged. "I'm good, huh? Wish I had a Ryo for every time I heard _that_."

"You're bad," she replied slowly, tipping her glasses to glance up at him.

"_That_," he started, "was cheesy."

She shrugged. "Nobodies perfect."

"Especially not you," he agreed.

"Hey," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're no Sasuke. You're lucky I'm settling."

"And I wish your tits were bigger," he replied with a shrug. "Can't always get what you want."

She gave him a look before turning around, grabbing her empty bottle. "Let's go get some more."

"Do you only brush half of your head?" he asked, the question lingering on his mind from the very beginning.

"It's called a style," she mumbled, walking towards the door of the small shack.

"It's called you missed a spot. A big spot."

She stopped in the doorway to turn around and give him a look. "Asshole," she mumbled before turning around again and continuing on.

"You love it," he teased with a grin, following her in.

* * *

It was close to morning when she opened her eyes. All she could see were blurred obscure colors. Grabbing around herself, she searched for her glasses. Hitting the man next to her a few times in the face, she finally found them stuck in between their bodies and she slid them on, squinting her eyes to adjust to the darkness. On the edge of the bed in their hotel room was a dark cloth with barely visible red clouds. She squinted, perhaps thinking it would give her night vision.

Dark cloak. Red clouds.

Why was that so familiar?

"My heavens," she breathed out, eyes widening behind her lenses. She turned to Kisame who was rudely taking up the whole bed. Panicking for a moment, she lightly smacked him over the head to wake him up. "You're in Akatsuki! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Shut up, bitch," he grumbled, putting a pillow over his head.

"This is important!" she hissed, grabbing the pillow to lift it off his head, though his hold was tighter. "I said this is important!"

"What?" he asked from below the pillow, voice muffled. "You want to go for round two already?"

"No!" she snapped, finally lifting the pillow from his face when he let go, though she tugged on it so hard that she almost fell backward off the bed had it not been for his hand that caught her arm. "Do you even listen to me?"

"I try not to."

"You're in Akatsuki," she stated again, looking at him expectantly.

"Yeah," he said with a nod, completely casual. "That's usually the deal breaker for women. They always seem to think I'll kill them in their sleep or something."

"Listen," she said, smile on her face as a plan began to form in her head. If Kisame could just lead them to the man Sasuke wanted dead, then Sasuke would _have_ to fall in love with Karin. It was a sure fire guarantee. The problem was: who did Sasuke want to kill again? "My team has been hunting you."

With that creepy smile and mention of her stalking him, he couldn't help but feel a little weirded out. "…uh why?"

"Sasuke is trying to kill someone from Akatsuki!" she said, eyes wide. She lifted herself to kneel on the bed, clutching the pillow close to herself. "If I could stop looking at his distracting lips long enough, I'd be able to remember who!"

Kisame could only give her an odd look for he didn't understand the complexity of how Karin's ears worked. They were equipped with a filter--one that only let her hear what she wanted. Contrary to popular belief, she wasn't on top of everything, and last night was no exception. Normally when Sasuke said something, she would hear something like, "Karin, blah I blah blah blah need blah blah you." And she would clap her hands together over her heart, squeal, and tell him that she'd been waiting her whole life for him to say that. And he could only stare for he didn't understand why she was so excited to set up camp. And he only got even more confused when she didn't do it.

On the other hand, she was very, _very_ willing to do the laundry; although she wasn't very good at it. Sasuke had already lost five pairs of pants since Karin had taken over.

"Wait," Kisame said, holding a hand out. "Wait."

There came those images of Itachi and him, making their way through their day to day lives. But this time, when Itachi looked at him and opened his mouth, the images ran to the end. "Sasuke," imaginary Itachi said. "My foolish little…"

"Brother!" Kisame yelled, shooting up to a sitting position. He clutched at his head with a smile. "My foolish little brother!"

"What are you on?" Karin asked, smile flipping upside down to a frown.

"It's his brother!" he told her, though she still looked confused. "Your Sasuke is trying to kill my Itachi!"

"Ew," she replied, barely moving her lips.

"No! Not mine like _that_," he said, shaking his head along with his hands. "He's my teammate. He's Sasuke's brother."

Karin's eyes widened and Kisame thought it was perhaps because of the realization of the morbid situation that the two brothers had been put in. But she just rose higher on her knees. "You mean," she stopped, eyes searching around as if lost until they landed on Kisame again, "there's _two_ of them!"

"What?"

"There's another one!" she yelled gleefully. "Now I have a fifty-fifty chance! The heavens have shined down on me today!"

"That doesn't even make sense," he said.

"What do you mean?" she snapped back at him. "There's two of them. One hundred divided by two is fifty, hence my fifty-fifty chance. Duh."

"Unless they both don't like you, which will probably be the case, then you have a zero percent chance."

She gave him a look. "You're a dumb ass." Before he could respond again, she jumped up. "Take me to him!"

"What a whore," he grumbled, falling back onto the bed to rub his face in his pillow and perhaps get some shut eye.

"Don't call me a whore!"

"Look, unless you want Itachi to torture you for information about his brother, there's no way you're meeting him," he grumbled into his pillow. She leaned in closer to hear him better. "There's no way he'd like you."

"What kind of torture?" she asked, tapping her chin with a finger.

"Sick," Kisame mumbled.

"And what do you mean he wouldn't like me? You don't know that."

"I don't even like you!" he yelled. "There's no way in hell he would."

"You don't know that," she said, lower lip puffing as she thought.

"I do know that," he argued. "Now shut up and go to sleep until I'm ready to deal with you again."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"I'll have to find some tape to cover that damn big mouth of yours," he said, hugging his pillow closer.

"If I'm so horrible to deal with, why am I even here?" she asked.

"Like I said before," he began as he turned to look at her. "No man passes up easy sex."

"Jackass!" she yelled, hitting him with the pillow she had been holding onto. He didn't respond but dug his head into his pillow again. She hit him with the pillow once more for good measure, but he didn't seem to care. "Now he's ignoring me," she said to herself.

"You're making it pretty hard with that mouth of yours," she heard him say, earning him a glare at his back from her.

"At least I don't cry when I have sex," she whispered with a smile, because she _knew_ that would piss him off. And piss him off it did. He lifted himself again to give her an annoyed look.

"I don't _cry…_ ever," he defended. "Especially during sex."

"Yes, you do," she said, crossing her arms and giving him a smart look.

"When did I cry?" he asked. "If I'm not mistaken, it was you that whined like a little--"

"You're so delusional that you don't even know you cry during sex," she continued. He rolled his eyes.

"I don't cry during sex," he said one more time.

"Whatever you say," she sang to him, patting him on the shoulder.

"There's that fucking mouth of yours again," he growled, swatting her hand away. She only retreated, still smiling. "You don't even have to be saying anything. Your stupid smiles say it all."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have problems, you know that?"

"_Oh_. _I _have problems," she said sarcastically, smile fading.

"Yeah, you do," he said with a nod. "You're so hung out about this Sasuke dude that you let him cut down on your self-esteem." Her smile now was clearly gone, replaced by a glare. "And you try to hide it by acting like Miss High and Mighty. And when someone comes along and puts you in your place, you _refuse_ to take it like a woman."

"That's sexist!"

"That's the truth," he said sternly. "Now shut up. That mouth's only good for one thing, and it's not talking."

That shut her up all right. But her reaction made him pause too. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. She clicked her tongue as she nodded, and he prepared himself for the storm that was about to sweep through.

"That's nice coming from a man who looks and _stinks_ like a fucking fish!" she yelled back, rising on her knees again and leaning in dangerously close. "It's no wonder you're such an asshole! No woman _wants_ to be with you, let alone _look _at you. And you try to play it off by pretending not to care. But I'll tell you something, jackass, you care. _You care_." Her finger was pointing at him and at this point and he could do nothing but stare in shock. Her eyebrows were knit together in frustration, her lips curved into a menacing frown.

"Karin," he said, barely moving his lips.

"What?" she asked in a yell.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," he nearly growled, a small smirk finding its way onto his lips.

"You're not so bad yourself," she mumbled slyly, her frown turning into a small smile. She lowered herself down and he pulled her to him before reaching up to her face.

"Take those glasses off," he said. "They make you look more hideous than you really are."

"Asshole," she sneered, taking them off and throwing them aside.

He pulled her in again. "You love it."

* * *

"This bread is good," Karin observed, staring at the small roll in her hands behind her lenses. She pulled it apart into two pieces and looked at the man sitting across from her at the table.

He sat, head in his hands, and groaned.

"You want some bread?" she asked, holding out a piece from him.

"_No._"

"It's good bread."

Another groan. "No."

"You shouldn't have drunk so much," she said with a shrug, stuffing the piece she held out to him into her mouth.

"Shut up," he replied, voice mumbled as he rubbed his tired face with his hands.

"See, you should be more like me," she started, one hand holding bread up in the air to make her case.

"I'll pass."

"I know my limits," she said, poking around the table for a small packet of butter. She grabbed it and opened it, and soon followed it by scooping it out with a knife and spreading it over the bread. "I can have a good time, without overdoing."

"I didn't overdo anything," he grunted. "Your voice is what's giving me this headache."

She lifted the corner of her lip in annoyance, but decided to eat the other piece of bread instead of giving him a piece of her mind. It wasn't until the waitress came back that they spoke again.

"Right," Karin said as she clicked her tongue, looking over the menu. "I'll get the…" she ran her finger along the laminated menu, tipping her head to look over her glasses… "three pancake special. _Oh_. This fresh squeezed mango juice sounds good."

"I'm not made of money, bitch" Kisame grunted, his forehead now laid against the table, though Karin didn't even give him a glance. The waitress just smiled politely and took down her order. "Get the normal juice."

"Well," Karin said, still looking over the menu, "If you can't afford rent, don't get the apartment."

"That was stupid," Kisame said. "You just compared yourself to an apartment."

"A nice one, with brand new wood floors," Karin replied, then turned to the waitress, whose polite smile had faded to an awkward curve. "So yeah, the three pancake special." Then Karin turned to Kisame, whose forehead was still stuck to the table and cleared her throat. "_With_ the _freshly squeezed_ mango juice."

"I-Is that all?" the waitress asked, taking the menu from Karin when she held it up to her.

"See what he wants," Karin replied, turning to Kisame.

The waitress turned to him and just stared at his exhausted figure.

"Hey," Karin said, throwing a napkin his way. "Tell the poor waitress what you want before she has a panic attack."

The waitress's fingers started to twitch.

"Anything alcoholic," he grunted.

"Are you nuts?" Karin asked him. "You have a hangover and you're drinking. Not to mention it's like eight o'clock in the morning."

"First of all, it's not a hangover," he defended, lifting his head to look at her. "Second of all, even if it _was_, fight fire with fire, right? Third, you shouldn't be talking. I found you tripping over your own feet before noon."

"Yesterday was one time," she hissed. "Get off my back."

"Anything alcoholic," Kisame repeated to the waitress, handing her his menu.

"Idiot," Karin mumbled, taking another bread roll to poke around.

"Y-You two are a couple?" the waitress asked, making Kisame and Karin both turn toward her.

Kisame immediately grunted, "No," but Karin shrugged and nodded at her.

"Don't listen to him. We are."

"Newly married?" the waitress continued, tilting her head pleasantly.

"No," Kisame cut in. "We're not a couple. She's delusional. She's a girl who compares herself to an _apartment_, a room with _a tiny entrance._"

Karin gave him a look and flung a small piece of bread at him.

"But we're _together_," Karin replied, nodding at the waitress.

"What does that even mean?" Kisame asked, raising his shoulders.

"It's what girls use when the man in their life doesn't want commitment, but she wants dibs," she explained. "Plus, I can dump you easier. Because it's not serious, I can end it just like…_that_." She snapped her fingers. "You know, just in case Sasuke sees the light…Isn't that right?" She titled her head to the waitress.

The waitress opened her mouth, about to say something, when Kisame cut her off.

"Great," he replied sarcastically. "But really, I doubt that whole _Sasuke thing_ is going to work out. I now understand why he won't even look at you."

"You shouldn't be talking," Karin replied with a shrug.

"H-How did you two meet?" the waitress asked, making Kisame and Karin both pause to think about how they should put this.

"Our teammates want to kill each other," Karin shrugged. And then came the awkward silence.

The corner of the waitress's lips twitched. "…oh."

"What is this?" Karin asked, swatting her hands at the waitress. "Twenty questions or something? Go place our order."

The waitress didn't need to be told twice. Kisame watched her nearly run away then brought his attention back to Karin, only to roll his eyes.

"Moody bitch," he mumbled.

She shrugged with a smile. "You love it."

He hit his head on the table. Hard. Very hard.

"So when do I get to meet this Itachi?"

This time, he put his head through it.


End file.
